


Mirror Days

by LadyDrace



Series: Junk Ficlets from Tumblr [130]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, Insecurity, M/M, Married Life, POV Stiles, past bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 18:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12463491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Some days the mirror shows Stiles something ugly and unlovable. He'd hoped he'd grow out of that, but sometimes it still just happens.





	Mirror Days

**Author's Note:**

> Originally [posted on Tumblr](http://ladydrace.tumblr.com/post/153645239506/hey-minna-i-was-wondering-if-you-would-be-up-for) for the anon prompt: "something where Stiles feels really insecure and Derek is just there for him."
> 
> Unbetaed.

Stiles likes to think he's come a long way since high school. He's got a degree, a job he doesn't hate, a smoking hot and dorky boyfriend, a not completely shitty apartment, and most of his friends are still alive. The fact that that last part is even on the list is something that still haunts him and the pack, but over the years they've all learned to lean on each other when the memories and the gaping void left behind by the people they've lost becomes too much, and most of them have had some therapy as well.

 

On top of all that, Stiles has also fought hard to shake off a lot of damaging notions about himself, and for the most part he's succeeded. He's more confident in himself, and when strangers or people unimportant to him tells him to shut up or call him annoying or clumsy, it generally doesn't phase him. He knows what matters and whose opinions he cares about now.

 

But one source of self-depreciation he can never quite seem to shut down is his own goddamn brain.

 

Some mornings he'll look in the mirror and see every tiny thing thrown at him in his awkward teenage years, still plainly there, despite the decades gone by. He'll see the moles, like dung splatters clinging to his face. His bony shoulders and knees, his piggy nose, his dirt-colored eyes and frog mouth. His weirdly hairy underarms, and bare and spindly biceps. Like a fucked up Popeye.

 

Sometimes he finds the strength to just shut it off. Ignore the mirror and turn his back on it, determined not to let old shit like that ruin his day. But other days it's just... too much. It seems weird and pathetic to him that after everything he's been through, after all the scars littering his body and his mind, and all the loss and grief and danger he's survived, that _this_ is a thing that can still break him, but... there it is.

 

Logic is no help. No matter how many people tell him he's gorgeous or how much Derek worships him, it still fucking pops up, like clockwork a few times a year. It never felt like something worth getting therapy over, considering. It definitely felt ridiculous to spend a full hour talking about the guilt and grief about getting your friends killed or in danger, and then switch gears to ”and oh yeah, deep down I still think I'm completely disgusting and unlovable.” It feels like something you shouldn't even be able to suffer from anymore after having been in a steady and loving relationship for a decade and a half.

 

But the mirror is still there, and it's still showing him flaw upon flaw, and today he's just tired.

 

He's supposed to be getting ready for work, but his eyes don't seem to want to leave the mirror, sticking to the imperfections like the spatters of crap stick to his cheek. He rubs a hand over his stubble, still patchy and strange in his mid 30's, no good at even covering up anything, and he sighs. No point in even trying today.

 

It's happened enough times now that he knows from pure and simple experience that it'll pass, and by tomorrow he'll be ready to take suggestive selfies again to frustrate Derek at work with. But for now he's just... it's no good.

 

He goes to the kitchen to start some bacon, because if he's gonna feel like shit about himself, then who cares if he's late for work, he wants greasy breakfast.

 

Derek lumbers in once the smell starts to waft through the apartment, and comes up behind Stiles for a sleepy morning hug. ”Bacon, huh?” he murmurs, nuzzling Stiles' neck. ”Special occasion?”

 

Stiles shrugs, and tries his best to not let it show that he's having one of his days, but he knows he's already smelling upset, and that Derek is definitely only ignoring it to give Stiles space. But there's no hiding how he unconsciously flinches away from Derek's loving hands as they stroke familiar patterns across his chest. All it does is remind him of his pathetic pecs, and Derek's hands pull away immediately.

 

”Pain?” Derek asks carefully, obviously going through the checklist. Physical aches, mental aches, nightmares or other. _Other_ usually being connected to the darkness left behind by the Nemeton, in a way that's just part of life at this point.

 

Stiles shakes his head and keeps poking the bacon. ”Go back to bed. I'll bring you breakfast,” Stiles says, wishing Derek would just go, leave Stiles here to stop comparing himself to him. Because Derek looks more amazing than ever, flecks of grey in his beard and the same rugged sturdiness to him, smooth tan skin in all the right places, and not a single scar to be found.

 

”No, the bed's cold now. I'd rather stay here with you,” Derek says, and starts setting the table. Stiles sighs, but he understands. Derek is willing to give him space, but he's also not about to let Stiles stew in his own mind. It's frustrating, but it's actually easy enough to remind himself that it's what's best for him in the long run, and he bites down on the urge to tell Derek to fuck off.

 

He's tense, though, and obviously it's enough for Derek to decide that today is a lost cause. He calls in sick for them both, and Stiles would protest the overbearing shit if he wasn't feeling so awful. There's an almost nauseaus feeling to his stomach, an insistent voice in the back of his head that he's deluding himself and that Derek's only with him out of pity or need for research or to get to Scott. All the same old stupid doubts.

 

They eat breakfast in silence, and Stiles is grateful for it, chewing his bacon slowly and trying to let it soothe his aches. It doesn't really work. When they're done Derek goes to the couch and puts on a random movie that doesn't require much thought, and leaves it up to Stiles how little or how much comfort he wants.

 

Sometimes Stiles can't even bear to be on the same couch with Derek on days like this, but today he curls up next to him, and sighs as a strong arm locks around his shoulders.

 

”Nightmare?” Derek asks after a minute, and Stiles shakes his head.

 

”It's stupid. It's nothing.”

 

”Lie,” Derek says softly. ”And I also disagree. It's not nothing.”

 

”It's definitely stupid.”

 

”No, it's not.”

 

Stiles snorts. ”You don't even know what it is.”

 

”I can guess. But even if I guess wrong, it's still something that's bothering you, so it's not stupid. By definition anything that upsets you is serious.” He rubs Stiles' shoulder. ”If you don't wanna tell me, that's okay.”

 

”It's just...” he makes a helpless gesture at himself. ”This whole... thing.”

 

”Ah,” Derek says, because they've been here before. In good and bad ways. In the past Derek has a few times tried to open up about his own issues of worthlessness, mostly put onto him by Kate, in a well-meaning attempt to show Stiles he's not alone. But those attempts all backfired, and now Derek knows better. Knows that any words to argue against what's in Stiles' head will be heard as pity or even lies.

 

At any other time Stiles can easily see that Derek understand the emotion behind it, but their roads there have been so different, and it's just too big a leap for Stiles to take once he's in the hole.

 

So Derek just pulls him in close and nuzzles him, touching him in all the places that won't make him flinch. His hair, the nape of his neck, his forehead, his ears, even his chin. It does help relax him a little bit, and he sinks into Derek with a sigh.

 

”I'm sorry I'm so difficult,” he murmurs, and Derek huffs.

 

”This isn't difficult. Difficult is living with a man who genuinely thinks Star Wars is better than Star Trek.”

 

”You are such a philistine, I don't know why I haven't divorced you yet.”

 

”You keep using that word, I don't think it means what you think it means.”

 

Stiles pokes him, but he can't help but smile. ”Shut uuuup,” he grumbles. It's an old comfortable argument that Stiles looks forward to still be having with Derek when they're in a nursing home, and right now it's exactly what he needs. ”I love you, dork.”

 

”Love you too, twerp.”

 

”Such an asshole,” Stiles huffs, and burrows into his chest with a small smile. It's still a shitty day, but it'll pass. And maybe one day the mirror will stop giving him days like this. Maybe. With Derek by his side, Stiles feels like he can be hopeful.

 

End.

 


End file.
